


Extracurricular Activities

by collatorsden_archivist



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, R/NC-17 - Brown Cortina, Time Period: 1973-1981 (Life on Mars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-17
Updated: 2008-04-17
Packaged: 2019-01-20 20:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12440664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collatorsden_archivist/pseuds/collatorsden_archivist
Summary: Late one night, Gene had a dream.  Spoilers through S2.08 of LoM and obliquely for S1.01 of A2A, although this is NOT a crossover.





	Extracurricular Activities

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Janni, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [the Collators' Den](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Collators%27_Den), which was moved to the AO3 to ensure access and longevity for the fanworks. I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Collators' Den collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/collatorsden/profile).

  
Author's notes: For Ducky, and she knows why. Crack-laced smut, although Ducky swears it's Special K. XDDDDDD  


* * *

Things hadn't been the same at all since he'd left.

 

 

Gene never thought he'd come to admit that he actually _missed_ that annoying picky-pain whom he had, until recently, called his DI. 

 

 

Then again, he'd never thought he'd actually manage to rid himself of the bastard, either. It seemed like he might well stay in CID forever, but then had come The Robbery

 

 

What a life-changer that was. It weren't for nothing that he capitalised the event even in his _mind_.

 

 

Gene had been having trouble sleeping ever since. On occasion he'd have some of the strangest dreams ever known to man, and of course the only person he could talk to about them was, well, _their star_. Not to mention _dead_.

 

 

Take the one he'd just woken up in an absolute lather from, for example. Much more of this and he was _certain_ he'd be found dead by the rest of his team one morning after not reporting to work, with quite a suspicious mess down his Y-fronts and an excruciating erection that wouldn't be changed even by the effects of rigor mortis coming and going. And coming. And...oooh.

 

 

Since he was alone, it couldn't hurt to dwell in the moment, could it?

 

 

Gene smiled, and it almost reached his eyes as he remembered.

******

He was sat behind some sort of odd table. More like a podium, with some flashing words on the front. There were a few others sitting with him on this panel, which looked a lot like some sort of game show. They all faced a stage, and a full auditorium of people was ranged around both them and the stage, watching from behind.

 

 

Suddenly, the excited buzzing in the room died down as the first contestant on this odd game show strode purposefully onto the stage. Gene had to bite back a whistle; what she was wearing left very little to the imagination, even though she was mostly in shadow. That silhouette alone was enough to cause quite a stir down below, and Gene was instantly grateful for the placement of the podium that separated a direct view of his lap from the stage. He did have _some_ sense of decency, after all...and besides, wouldn't want to frighten the little minx off, now would we? 

 

 

Those legs seemed to go on forever. Gene was sure it must have been the shoes. Normally he didn't pay a lot of attention to footwear, other than making sure the right loafer went on the right foot and the left onto the left. But the way these arched her legs and back and thrust her arse back and her tits forward and made her look nothing short of well ready made his tongue go a bit thick in his mouth.

 

 

And _that_ was even before he got to the best part: the uniform. Gene didn't remember any girls back when he was in school wearing uniforms like _this_. Her plaid skirt left just enough to the imagination to tantalise, and the crisp, white blouse tied up in front to bare her beautiful, washboard midriff and expose just a hint of her bright black satin bra must have been chosen by a genius wardrobe planner. This was capped by perfect makeup and dirty-blonde hair tied back into pigtails with senseless fluffy pink elastics ringing each one near the top of her head.

 

 

She was looking down as she walked out, or else Gene might have noticed who, exactly, she was quite a bit more quickly.

 

 

And then the music started, and she raised her eyes and began to sing and to dance and Gene's world tilted and swirled and dropped out from underneath him. Suddenly, it was just him watching this performance, which was obviously solely geared toward his entertainment.

 

 

"My loneliness...is killing me..." Sam breathed into the strange microphone that was strapped to his head on a wire, pouting perfectly as he sang and danced ever closer to Gene.

 

 

It wasn't that he had a great voice. He didn't.

 

 

"I must confess...I still believe..." Sam continued, as he straddled Gene and rubbed up against him in a way that could only be considered utterly lewd in polite circles.

 

 

"When I'm not with you, I lose my mind..." Sam breathed into Gene's face, locking gazes and refusing utterly to break them, even to blink.

 

 

"Give me a sign..." Sam emphasised this note he had to hold for quite some time (and which he didn't quite seem to have enough air for) by thrusting his hips forward and grinding into Gene as he wrapped his arms around Gene's neck.

 

 

"Hit me, baby, one more time!" Sam suddenly leapt up off of Gene in time to the music and laid himself neatly across Gene's lap, face-down.

 

 

That little tiny skirt hitched up just high enough that Gene could see the pants underneath had apparently ridden up quite a lot. Sam's arse was lifted and separated nicely as a result, and yet his cock and balls were still neatly contained and kept from impeding his on-stage performance.

 

 

Still, Gene sensed he was supposed to do something. And Sam had, after all, been _rather_ off-key. Nevermind the fact that a particularly tone-deaf howler monkey could not possibly have deterred Gene from what he was about to do next. 

 

 

"The dance routine was brilliant, but I don't really feel as though you hit those high notes well enough. And you don't seem to know how to breathe properly. Shall I teach you?" Gene found himself asking as he took his first swipe at the beautiful arse now bared across his lap.

 

 

"Oh yes, sir. Please, sir. May I have another, sir?" Sam squealed and wriggled, which did nothing at all to ease Gene's absolutely painful erection. 

 

 

Unsure which percentage of him was enjoying this scene as it played out and which percentage was frustrated beyond all reason, Gene continued smacking, enjoying the difference in tones he'd get if he applied different parts of his hand to different parts of Sam's arse. 

 

 

SMACK!

 

 

SMACK!

 

 

SMACK!

 

 

When Sam's arse was a very nice cherry red, and one that nearly matched his senselessly ruby lips, Gene paused for a moment.

 

 

"Is my punishment over, sir? Can I go now?" Sam asked, trying his best to keep the obvious note of satisfaction out of his voice.

 

 

"Oh no, it's only just begun. Now up you get," Gene's voice was coarser than a boatload of gravel in a hurricane. 

 

 

"I was hoping not. I've been very, very naughty," Sam breathed as he got up, face perilously close to Gene's crotch, so when he breathed extra hard Gene was sure he was going to faint from lack of blood flowing to his head.

 

 

"What kind of twisted game show is this?" Gene said, as he started hastily undoing his flies.

 

 

"No, no, let _me_. I insist," Sam interrupted him, batting his hands away and smoothly and surely yanking the zip down before locking his eyes on Gene's once more. "It's what you ordered, isn't it? I assure you, I'm _very_ discreet. Have to be, in my line of work. Though to be honest, this is so much fun I'm half-tempted not to charge you for it," Sam winked, then looked down. His eyes widened in surprise as he beheld all the Gene Genie had to offer.

 

 

Sam gulped audibly, then ran a nervous tongue around his lips and whistled. "I've been awfully naughty, but you're giving me a treat like this, Headmaster?" 

 

 

"Let this be a lesson to you," was all Gene could think to say, and he marvelled that he could think that much. 

 

 

"No good deed goes unpunished, eh?" Sam's eyes were pure mischief as he dropped to his knees and wrapped his gorgeous ruby lips around Gene's cock. There was nothing gentle about his actions; it was almost as though he had a sixth sense about what his partner wanted. Which Gene supposed it would pay to have, given his line of work. Still, he couldn't let the moment get away from him that easily.

 

 

"Not so fast, sweetheart. The Gene Genie wants another crack at that lovely, tight arse of yours. Think you can fit us in?" he said, grabbing Sam's head and pulling him up off his cock as quickly as he could, before the game would have to begin again a painful amount of minutes later. 

 

 

"I think that can be arranged. I've already prepared, too. All I have to do is this..." Sam grinned the most gorgeous, wicked smile Gene had ever seen, then pirouetted on those devilish heels, just enough to make his skirt flutter out around him as he sat down on Gene's lap, aforementioned gorgeous arse precisely swallowing up Gene's engorged cock to the hilt. 

 

 

"Now tell me exactly how naughty I've been," Sam said as he began bouncing giddily on Gene's lap, as though he was riding a pony. 

 

 

Gene was, by this point, reduced to one-note gurgles and groans and moans until he finally grabbed Sam's hips and rammed himself home. And then reached under Sam's skirt and fisted his hand around Sam's similarly swollen cock and began pumping for all he was worth. 

 

 

It didn't take long for Gene to come in an exhausted, shuddering heap, still pinned to his chair behind the podium. Sam came a moment later, and miraculously managed to end up shooting himself in the face, he was so forceful. 

 

 

"You've, erm. You've got something just here..." Gene said, suddenly much shyer than such a moment should really warrant, as he mumbled and gestured toward Sam's upper lip.

 

 

"I've heard milk does a body good," Sam grinned no less wickedly than before, running his tongue around lips that were still alarmingly, perfectly red.


End file.
